


Off The Record

by corporal_captain_nincompact



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Episode Related, M/M, Pre-Slash, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 12:55:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15267948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corporal_captain_nincompact/pseuds/corporal_captain_nincompact
Summary: The scene in Radar's Report where Hawkeye catches Trapper "observing" the PW whose actions in the OR lead to the death of one of his patients and what follows after.





	Off The Record

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfic I've ever shared. Please be gentle with me. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own MASH. I wish I did. It's one of my very favourite things. I used a few of the lines from the show as a prompt. If anyone wants to sue me over it, please send Alan Alda to the proceedings. Thank you.

Hawkeye felt absolutely dumbfounded. How could he have not noticed how close to the edge Trapper had been dangling? 

A blonde. 

A blonde with soulful eyes and a sweet smile with a cut on her arm had made him completely oblivious to Trapper's free fall. 

Stupid! He knew what was happening. He knew his best friend had lost a patient and he knew that the reason why was alive and well, mocking him with his full recovery. Admittedly, Hawkeye had never seen this darkness in him before. He'd never seen John MacIntyre hit a breaking point that a martini and a prank on Frank Burns couldn't right, but now, now he didn't know how to bring him back. 

He watched carefully, frightened even, from the crack in the tent door. Trapper's shoulders were tense as he stalked closer to the bed ridden Communist PW. The soldier's eyes were feral. Were he not tied down to the cot, he most certainly would be launching himself at Trapper's jugular and Trapper's posturing made it look like he would have more than welcomed the attack. 

"So, you doin' okay, huh? Gettin' all that juice you need..." Trapper's voice was slow and thick as he inched closer and closer to the soldier. His hand reached out for the bottle of untainted plasma. It wouldn't take anything just to knock it over. Contaminate the field. An eye for an eye... 

"Trapper," Hawkeye's trembling voice startled him out of its dark revelry and his hand recoiled. "Trap...That's not what we're about..." The words just hang in the air. Hawkeye refuses to place blame. After all, the PW had been his patient. He feels responsible for not keeping him on the table, for not really noticing Trapper's state and for allowing this to escalate to this point. This isn't Trapper. This is the war. This is shell shock and 48-hour days and rotten food and living in the muck and mire. This is that us versus them mentality that strips away all humanity until a person is just a bleeding raw bundle of nerves itching to fight or flee. "John, c'mon please..."

The use of his real name hits him in the gut like a punch and just like that, Trapper's fists unclench and his broad shoulders stoop. Hawkeye releases a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. Even in the shadows of the dimly lit tent, Trapper's shaking is visible, and Hawkeye takes this as the cue to extract him from the situation. Moving to his side, he places a careful hand on his back and the other at the base of his neck, kneading the tense muscles there. Only after a minute of this does Trapper turn to face Hawkeye. His expression is all shame, shock and fear, his pupils dilated, his eyes sallow from stress and sleep deprivation. 

“I’m sorry…” MacIntyre sounds small and pitiful and Hawkeye can’t take it. 

"C'mon," Hawkeye almost whispers. "Let's get out of here..."

Trapper feebly nods his agreement and allows Hawkeye to lead him out the door, his hands never breaking from his friend. He leads him across the compound in the dead of night to the shower tent and directs Trapper inside and into the first stall. MacIntyre doesn't flinch at all as Hawkeye pulls the chord. Freezing cold water hits him in the face, flattens his curls and runs down his scrubs. Trapper welcomes it. He pushes his face into the steady stream even more as Hawkeye continues to massage his shoulders propping him upright. Trapper punches the wall as a dry sob wracks his body and then another and then another. Tears don't come but his knees give out beneath him and he hits the floor hard. 

Hawkeye joins him on the ground of the stall. Trapper's head falls onto his shoulder and Hawkeye's hand is in his hair holding him closer. "It's okay..." he whispers. "I'm here... It's over... you're okay..."

"I almost..."

"But you didn't."

"I could have..."

"But you didn't."

"You stopped me..."

"No, you stopped yourself." Hawkeye sighed and forced a small smile. "You're a good man, John MacIntyre. You're passionate about the people in your care. You take loss personally. You love hard and you hate to lose. I know you and you wouldn't. You couldn't."

Trapper looks up into his eyes. He forces a smile that refuses to spread to the rest of his face. He wants to believe him but for now all he can do is nod. There is quiet as Hawkeye contemplates what he’s just said. He’s right. He has to be. There’s so much uncertainly in this horrible place. He’s seen it change people. But not Trapper… It wouldn’t take his best friend. He wouldn’t let it. Hawkeye had thought about this before. He never could soldier. He could never kill for someone else’s purposes. He didn’t think he could kill out of his own anger or hate either. If he was being honest, he’d only ever thrown maybe four or five punches in his entire life. But what if there were extenuating circumstances. What if the life of someone he loved depended on it? Could he kill to save his father’s life or even Trapper’s? He didn’t know the answer. There was always a chance. He is just an animal after all. This revelation makes Hawkeye cling to Trapper tighter and let out a small futile sob of his own. Trapper doesn’t seem to notice. There is no comfort in this sort of self-awareness.

They stay like this for a few minutes. Neither of them able to say much else. When Hawkeye feels a shiver and notices the goose flesh on Trapper, he helps him stand up and runs the hot water on him. That’s when he realizes that he’s soaking wet too. Hawkeye doesn’t care. Everything about this day has been ridiculous. That's when, to his surprise, a real smile spreads across Trapper's features and he lets out an odd snort. 

“You think this is funny?” Hawkeye shakes his soaking wet backside at his cohort and there another scoff.

"No… well, yes, but no… I hear you're engaged..." Trapper's eyes meet Hawkeye's and there is a hint of laughter in them again. 

"Oh, that...” Hawkeye finds himself self-conscious and oddly embarrassed. “Well, I may have gotten a little carried away...”

"Who? You?" Trapper says wryly turning off the water and offering Hawkeye a crooked smile. 

Something flutters in Hawkeye's chest as he takes in Trapper's soulful eyes and tender smile. Hawkeye clears his throat, removes his bathrobe and passes it to Trapper to wrap around himself. As Trapper starts to slip his arm through the arm hole, a glisten of dark crimson catches Hawkeye's attention.

"You're bleeding..."

Trapper takes in the gash on his arm. It's deep and jagged and starting to throb. "I must have caught it on something when I fell... it's fine..."

"It looks like you might need a few stitches. I'll take a closer look when we get back to the Swamp."

Trapper grimaces. 

"Oh no you don't. Why do doctors always make the worst patients?"

Trapper laughs. "Fine. But can I maybe get out of these clothes and have a drink first."

"It's a deal."

Hawkeye helps Trapper wrap the robe around himself and insists on keeping pressure on his wound to stop the bleeding. There's another flutter in Hawkeye’s gut as they make their way home. The joke in his mind makes him grin- just like that there's another blonde with a cut on the arm that's making him forget himself. And Hawkeye thinks that he could easily get carried away with this one too.


End file.
